The Faithful I: The Gathering Shadows
by Meddwl
Summary: AU. The great days of Númenor draw to a close and the men of the West turn from the ways of the Valar. Can the influence of the enigmatic Eldarcáno and those who still trust the wisdom of the elves save the Land of the Star? Adventure, court intrigues, betrayal and a royal wedding. Tar-Palantir, Ar-Pharazôn, Gil-Gilad, Thranduil, Elrond, Legolas.
1. Chapter 1 - The Herald

Disclaimer: Everything but the OCs is Tolkien's.

Warning: Some violence, nothing super graphic.

Background: Númenor, the land founded and first ruled by Elros, the mortal brother of Elrond Half-Elven has lost its original virtue. Its people long for the immortal life of the Eldar, despite their great life spans and turn from the Valar. Elves are no longer welcome and their language is forbidden. In the West, the Lords of Andúnië still secretly cling to the ways of their fathers and in the East in Rómenna, those who openly honor the Valar and respect the elves gather. They are known as the Elendili, the Faithful.

It is in this chaotic and darkening world that Elendil and his sons are born, from whom the Kings of Gondor and Arnor are descended.

* * *

Chapter 1 – The Herald

Queen Inzilbêth looked anxiously behind her as she entered the courtyard of her uncle's palace in Rómenna. She could only hope that her husband had no news of her flight, for Ar-Gimilzôr was a hard man and there was now no love between them.

For a time perhaps he had been entranced by her beauty though she had wed him only out fear for her family, for she was of the faithful who yet honored the Valar and welcomed the Eldar among them. Even this slight hold upon him had long since passed, though her beauty had not yet faded.

It was their children that now caused the open rift between them. Their eldest, Inziladûn was like unto his mother, fair of face, courteous and kindly, more like Elros then many of his latest forefathers. The younger, Gimilkhâd, however, was the child of his father, handsome and prideful in appearance, he openly disdained the Valar and of elves he would speak nothing but evil.

It was for the sake of her eldest that she now sought the wisdom of the Lord of Andúnië. The long years of seeing only the arrogance of his father and friends and their slurs of the Eldar were at last taking their toll upon her child's spirit. No longer did he seek out his mother for tales of the Eldar days and songs and lore of old. Now he sought the company of the rich and the proud, and her heart bled within her to see the innocence of her child tainted by the court.

Gracefully, she dismounted and handed her horse over to the care of the waiting servant, keeping her veil bound about her face. From the outside the palace seemed void of light and sound, for dark drapes covered the windows and no laughter or light-hearted chatter rang out as it had once.

Silently she slipped within, keeping to the shadows until she reached Eärendur's private chambers. She did not knock, but slipped within his study, blinking in the light.

She looked up and her eyes widened with astonishment and horror. She, the queen of Númenor was staring into the face of her husband's greatest fears.

An elf sat in the light, it pooled gleaming on his golden hair and lit his fair face with a rosy glow. He stood and bowed.

"Queen Inzilbêth" he said softly, his voice hushed and musical "Please have a seat while I seek out your uncle."

Inzilbêth was too astonished to protest as he disappeared through the doorway. Her head pounded miserably with this newest worry. She had defied her husband to seek out her uncle, only to tangle herself in the dangerous company of an elf. If the king should hear of her doings this night…

The queen was not afraid of the elf because of his race. In fact under happier circumstances she would have been glad to see at last one of the Eldar, it was merely her fear of the prevalent hatred for elvenkind that worried her so deeply.

She was startled from her thoughts by the entrance of the Lord of Andúnië and the elf. Eärendur was a handsome man, tall and dark-haired, reminding her sharply of the king's short-comings. However, his noble features were clouded with worry and a little fear as he looked down upon his niece. Even though the Lords of Andúnië had never openly shown their commitment to the cause of the Elendili (_Elf-friends_), they were looked upon with suspicion by the kings, a suspicion that could now become a charge of treason should any of the so-called King's Men hear of it.

The very speaking of the elven-tongue had been forbidden and was harshly punished in these sorry days yet he was harboring and elf and not any elf, an elven prince. Even worse he feared what evil would befall the prince should he be discovered. Though his own punishment would be far from pleasant, the elf's would be much worse.

Eärendur sat heavily, the golden prince, calm and seemingly unconcerned by his danger beside him.

"Inzilbêth" he began tentatively hoping that her presence meant that she was yet untainted by the ways of the court.

"Uncle Eärendur" she responded readily enough, "I come seeking your counsel for the sake of my son."

"Prince Inziladûn?" he asked confused.

"Inziladûn is becoming proud and arrogant, the ways of the court are turning him from us." she said sadly, "He seeks out the company of the king's men. I fear for him, he is turning against all that I have taught him, I know not how to reach him." Her cry was desperate, pleading for the soul of her child.

Eärendur sat silently as the elf glanced at the two.

"Perhaps, I may aid the prince." he said softly, breaking the silence. Uncle and niece looked at him startled. Eärendur opened his mouth but the prince spoke before him.

"It is a risk, I know." he stated, "But it sounds as though your son needs a shock, something to wake him from his complacence and ill-companions. He must see that the lies and rumors about both my people and the Lords of the West are untrue. If I were to speak with him…"

"Absolutely not" interrupted Eärendur, "If the prince has truly turned your life would be in danger your high…" he broke off, his face pale.

Inzilbêth looked at the elf with renewed interest.

"May I inquire as to your name your highness?" she asked curiously.

The elf looked deep within her eyes, his gaze seeming to pierce her very thoughts. He smiled.

"There is no deception in your heart" he said, glancing reassuringly at Eärendur, "Still it would be best you did not know my true name, the fewer who know the better, though I mean no discourtesy to your honor, your majesty. Please, call me Eldarcáno and forget that you ever heard my title." his voice was kindly but grave. The queen nodded but she could not help wondering about the identity of the royal messenger.

Eldarcáno turned to her uncle, silencing his objections with a wave of a long-fingered hand.

"Eärendur, my friend" he said firmly, "I am well aware of the possible outcome of my venture, but to have another king like Ar-Gimilzôr will bring the wrath of the Valar upon Númenor. If you wish the land of the star to endure something must be risked."

Eärendur's eyes still showed his numerous misgivings but he did not gainsay the prince. Eldarcáno turned back to the queen.

"How can I find your son, where none will see us?"

Inzilbêth thought quickly, the palace was far too dangerous and she could not send him to the Harbor of Andúnië without observation.

"He enjoys hunting in the forests of Andustar, but he usually takes several companions. He never goes alone and even if he so desired the king would forbid it."

"I doubt not that I can avoid the notice of his companions." said the elf thoughtfully, a smile dancing in his eyes, "And if the meeting should go ill, it gives me several days to escape from their hands."

Eärendur winced, "Pray Elbereth that it goes well, my friend. I do not want to even imagine the evil that they would do you should you be discovered."

Eldarcáno smiled at his grim tone, "Surely, you misdoubt my abilities, my friend. If I am caught and kept by a pack of court younglings I will not complain of my treatment!"

* * *

Prince Inziladûn rode ahead of his friends as they crashed through the virgin forest. His handsome face was alert and concentrated as he followed the swift feet of a great buck. But though he deftly guided his horse over fallen branches and around the trees in his path he failed to notice that his companions were no longer behind him. Neither did he note that he had left the path in his pursuit.

The buck vanished into the distance, the white of its gleaming coat disappearing among the green of the forest with surprising ease.

Inziladûn reined in disappointed and turned expecting to see his friends. He was in a deep clearing, ancient trees lifting their imperious crowns to the sky rose far above his head while about him the grass grew in a thick carpet. The only sounds were the merry tinkling of a hidden rill and the soft rustle of leaves in the wind. No bird call broke the peace of the glade.

Entranced, he stood looking about him wonder.

Some unknown sense made him turn and there beneath the spreading arms of the greatest of the oaks stood a figure. Majestic and breathtaking as the tree above him, he stood perfectly still, his golden hair shining and a faint light shimmering about him.

He was tall and slender of form but with an air of power and strength hanging about him. Surely, this was one of the Valar themselves, and so thinking Inziladûn knelt upon one knee.

A merry laugh rang out and the figure advanced towards him shaking his head. The prince stood slowly.

"I am not one of the Valar that you should pay me such homage" he heard the melodious voice saying. He looked up and started upon seeing the face. Flawless skin, deep grey-green eyes filled with the wisdom of thousands of years, the slightly leaf-shaped ears.

An Elf.

Inziladûn stumbled back, his mind conflicted between the tales of his mother and those of his newest friends. _Elves are the firstborn, wise and fair, aiding men with their knowledge and skill _he heard Inzilbêth's voice in his head. But other, newer and stronger memories awoke also _elves are prideful and arrogant, flaunting their immortality in the faces of men. They remain aloof, abandoning men to their fate when they do not seek him out and destroy him. Never look them in the eyes lest you be cast under their spell. _

_If you should ever see an elf my son bring him to me. They will try to ensnare you in their lies, do not listen or you will never be seen again…_

The prince's head snapped back up, avoiding the elf's eyes as his father's warning sounded through his memory. _Had not this elf separated him from his friends and brought him here alone?_

"Prince Inziladûn" the golden-haired one said bowing slightly, "Will you hear what I have to tell you?"

Inziladûn nodded as he thought desperately of some way to outwit the deadly creature before him. _Elves are swifter than the diving falcon and seldom caught unless you gain their trust. _The prince forced his face to seem fascinated rather than repelled and listen attentively to the elf's warning, trying to ignore the sinking feeling at the thought of his own duplicity and the caging of such a magnificent creature.

Eldarcáno put all of his passion and fears for the well-being of Númenor into his plea, hoping that the young prince would see his earnest desire to aid him and his people, to reawaken the slumbering innocence of the boy, to make him see where their faithlessness and pride was leading. He had left his weapons behind so as not to frighten the youth and though Inziladûn would not meet his eyes he seemed harmless enough.

Wrapped in his own honesty and hope, Eldarcáno never saw the dart until it was too late to avoid. Inziladûn kept them always on his person due to his father's fear of political enemies. He twisted away from it evading the full dose of the poison, still the sharp tip caught in his sleeve and scratched his skin. He knew that he had little time before it took effect and not wanting to harm the prince even now, darted away towards the nearest tree.

Inziladûn watched horrified as the elf leapt towards the tree, the oaks' mighty branches bending downward to aid him.

He never reached the tree, half-way across the glade he stumbled and finally fell. Inziladûn stepped forward cautiously feeling strangely guilty as he saw the lithe form stretched lifelessly on the ground. Still ignoring his burgeoning shame at harming the elf he bound him securely after searching his packs for rope and laid the still figure across his horse.

Inziladûn was nearing the path where his friends had been left behind when the elf began to regain consciousness. His eyes flickered open and he twisted in the bonds as he realized his predicament. All five young lords had returned to the clearing where they had been separated by the time Inziladûn walked into it, his horse behind him.

They rode forward eagerly as they saw that the horse was burdened and stopped frozen with astonishment as they recognized the form of an elf.

"An elf? You captured an elf?" asked four maliciously excited voices.

Inziladûn nodded as they pulled the Eldarcáno roughly from the horse. Zônhard drew his sword thrusting it before his eyes, clipping his cheek with the flat. From where he stood Anórhad winced at the sight of blood on the spotless white, smiling grimly as Inziladûn turned angrily upon the other.

"I gave you no leave to harm him!" he said threateningly.

Ilkhâr, Myntur and Atazôr turned on him astonished, "It's an elf, your highness" they said confused.

Zônhard scowled as he sheathed the sword, "Elves are dangerous and traitors to your father, your highness!" he spat, "They deserve nothing, miserable spies of the Valar that they are."

Inziladûn looked on him with disgust, "I will shed the blood of no creature needlessly." he said sternly, "You will not draw a blade upon my prisoner again unless I give you leave."

Zônhard bowed reluctantly, glaring at the elf who had managed to rise to his feet and stood looking his captors over impassively. He turned away quickly as that bright gaze was bent on him, inwardly squirming under Eldarcáno's scrutiny.

"We will camp here" ordered the prince rather imperiously, "Ilkhâr, join me in finding some game, Anórhad secure the elf, the rest of you set up camp and build a fire."

The unlucky three glared at each other and at the prince's back as he left the clearing. Anórhad was checking the captive's bonds, glancing at his face nervously as he fiddled apologetically with the ropes.

So focused was he that he fell back a little when the three surrounded him nearly noiselessly.

"Zônhard? Myntur? Atazôr? " he asked anxiously, hoping that the alarm bells sounding frantically in his mind were false. When he saw the look on Zônhard's face he realized with horror that they rang true. He, one of the Elendili was helpless to defend or even aid the elf.

"The prince ordered that we should not touch the elf" he argued, surprised at the indifferent tone that he managed to achieve.

"The prince said that we should not touch him with a blade" corrected Zônhard, looking at Myntur and Atazôr expectantly. They carried long flexible wands. Anórhad's heart sank as he read their purpose. The wands would draw no blood and the prince would never know of the unlawful interrogation.

Eldarcáno simply stood waiting calmly for them to approach him. Unlike Anórhad he had realized their intent the minute Inziladûn stepped from the camp. He was bound and still weakened, but he meant to put up as good a fight as he could manage.

Unfortunately Zônhard was cleverer than he was brave. The three grabbed him as one, Atazôr and Myntur holding him as Zônhard bound him to a great oak. He lashed out as well as he could but the odds were far too great and much of his strength had been sapped by the poison, Anórhad dared not give himself away by aiding him. Thus he shortly found himself divested of his tunic his bared back facing the young lords.

"What is your name elf?" asked Zônhard impatiently.

"Eldarcáno" he returned, not caring whether they should know it.

"Afraid Eldarcáno?" sneered the youth, "Who sent you?" Eldarcáno set his lips in a thin line and said nothing. Zônhard nodded to Myntur, who struck him a glancing blow across his shoulder blades.

"Who sent you? Why are you here?" he repeated. The elf made no sign of having heard him. They struck him together.

From where he watched with growing rage, Anórhad winced they covered the defenseless elf with their harsh blows, impressed by his seeming absolute unconcern for the mess that they were wrecking upon his back.

They gave up only after the shining skin was crisscrossed in ugly red welts. Baffled and angry they allowed Anórhad to return his tunic as they set up the camp.

Inziladûn saw no trace of their cruel actions as he entered the camp, for the elf refused to show pain from the abuse and his tormentors had been careful to strike only his back. The only sign of anything wrong was the wrathful face of Anórhad, who had determined that the prince should hear of what had happened as soon as he could speak to him alone.

Inziladûn was therefore confused and worried when Anórhad drew him a little ways into the forest as the others lay down to sleep.

"Anórhad?"

"I must speak to you my prince. I have never liked telling tales of others, but you should know that Zônhard and his friends interrogated the elf." Inziladûn's face darkened.

"They harmed him? What did he tell them?"

"His name is apparently Eldarcáno."

"They broke an elf? I saw no sign of any abuse upon him?" he asked feeling oddly disappointed with the unknown elf's weakness.

"He told them his name as though it mattered not. Beyond that he would say nothing no matter how much they struck him."

Inziladûn smiled foolishly into night. _They had not even come close to breaking the elf, such a task was beyond the powers of court fops, his mother had often told him of the their strength and resilience. _Startled he realized that he was thinking well of the elf, why did it seem so hard to remember that he was dangerous and cruel? _Because his face shows no malice…_

Angered with himself for his indecision and doubts he turned and strode back into the camp.

"Bring the elf to my tent." he ordered.

* * *

Most of the back story of Aragorn's ancestors can be found in the appendices of the Lord of the Rings. Lest the number of "new" people be overwhelming I have included a:

Cast of Characters: (will be expanded as necessary)

(_Canon_)  
Amandil - Grandson of Eärendur and father of Elendil  
Ar-Gimilzôr - King of Númenor and father of Inziladûn and Gimilkhâd  
Ar-Pharazôn - Last king of Númenor, takes his cousin Míriel to wife against her will  
Eärendur - Lord of Andúnië, kin of the king, uncle of the Inzilbêth  
Eldarcáno - Alias of Legolas Thranduilion (means _Herald of the Elves_ the name and of course his presence is AU.)  
Elendil - Father of Isildur and Anárion  
Gil-Gilad - Last High King of the Elves, Son of Fingon  
Gimilkhâd - Father of Ar-Pharazôn the Golden  
Inziladûn - Later known as Tar-Palantir, father of Tar-Míriel_  
_Inzilbêth - Queen of Númenor, wife of Ar-Gimilzôr  
Lindórië - Sister of Eärendur and mother of Inzilbêth

(_OC_)  
Anórhad - Young noble, friend of Inziladûn, secretly one of the Faithful  
Atazôr - Young noble, friend of Gimilkhâd  
Ilkhâr - Young noble, friend of Gimilkhâd  
Mardil – Son of Eärendur and father of Amandil  
Melyanna - Wife of Tar-Palantir, daughter of Thalion of Rómenna (means _Dear Gift)  
_Myntur - Young noble, friend of Gimilkhâd  
Thalion - One of the Elendili of Rómenna (means _Steadfast)_  
Zônhard - Young noble, friend of Gimilkhâd


	2. Chapter 2 - The Winds of Change

Chapter 2 – The Winds of Change

Inziladûn walked swiftly to his tent, confused and impatient. Suddenly wrathful at his perceived weakness and the elf who had occasioned it he glared angrily at the captive standing before him. Eldarcáno's easy stance and utter fearlessness was becoming irritating, he was used to respect and deference. His people bowed before him and humbly asked _his_ will. Not so this elf who held himself as prince and an equal.

"What do you wish of me?" asked the elf breaking the silence without even the slight bow he had given before.

"Who sent you Eldarcáno?" demanded Inziladûn angrily, "You call yourself a messenger, do you not? Who sent you to spy upon us?"

Eldarcáno's lower lip curled slightly at his outburst. "I am not a spy" he said flatly, "I came because your people are dear to the Eldar and you need our aid."

Inziladûn's eyes flashed, "We need no aid nor pity, elf!" he spat, "We are not so weak as you mighty immortals believe!"

"I speak not of strength of arms" Eldarcáno said bluntly, "The Land of the Star, _your _land, first ruled by Elros of the line of Luthíen is failing. Your people no longer honor the Valar, the name of the One is no longer respected. How long can Númenor endure without the good will of the Lords of the West?"

Inziladûn was furious, _how dare this elf, this prisoner berate him! How dare he accuse men of being unfaithful! How dare he!_

Blindly, he struck out, his fist smashing into Eldarcáno's face. The elf rocked on his feet, helpless in his bounds as the prince slapped him across the face, the heavy rings he wore tearing the skin. He took it silently, stumbling back from the force of the blows.

He fell heavily, Inziladûn, his face crimson in anger standing above his prisoner. He stared down angrily, the elf was sprawled gracelessly across the floor, his bound hands trapped painfully beneath his weight, his face bleeding and bruised. Still his bright grey eyes sought no mercy and held no fear, only calm assurance.

Inziladûn drew back panting as his wrath drained away leaving him empty and horribly guilty. He stood stunned for a long moment before he silently sought the elf's eyes, his stomach turning at the damage he had caused. _What had he become? He had beaten an unarmed and helpless prisoner. Had he fallen so low, was this what the elf was warning him of?_

He backed away leaning against the tent pole. As the elf swung himself to his feet with an inhuman agility, he felt slightly relieved, Eldarcáno must not be as badly injured as he had thought. His relief died as the elf twisted his bound hands before him and reached into his left boot.

The prince watched paralyzed as Eldarcáno withdrew a long supple blade, cutting his bonds with a few swift strokes and turned his attention upon Inziladûn. The prince stood firmly, he had behaved abominably, but he was not utterly craven. He would take the elf's revenge without compliant. Eldarcáno stopped before him his eyes glittering strangely in the flickering light.

He brought the blade up, gleaming before Inziladûn's burning face, it dazzled his eyes as it spun and came to rest point down in the elf's hand.

Inziladûn blinked.

Eldarcáno stood there still, a smile quirking about his mouth, the elven blade held down in his hand.

"I mean you no harm, your highness." he said finally, "I meant every word of what I said. I am here as a friend not as a spy." He held the knife out, offering it freely.

"I am sorry"

The shapely mouth formed a half-smile.

"I am ashamed, never have I so lost control of my passions. Please forgive me, my lord." The elf prince's split lips twisted into a genuine full smile.

"You are not so far gone after all Prince Inziladûn." he said, his voice slightly hoarse, "None who can still see the evil of his actions and repent of them is beyond aid. You understand now don't you?"

Inziladûn nodded. _What was this creature who could read him so easily? Who saw before he, himself did what he was slowly becoming, trapped in the court. Who was he among his own people? What was his true name?_

"I am Legolas, son of Thranduil" said the elf looking him in the eye. _Could he read minds?_ "My life is in your hands as is the fate of Númenor if she can still be saved."

Inziladûn surprise showed clearly in his face. He had thought that the elf held himself well, and so he might. This was no ordinary elf he had mistreated but a prince of the elves…

"You are a prince of the Greenwood?" he asked, his voice shaking slightly.

"I am"

"Then even more so do I repent my actions and those of my companions. Anórhad told me their ill-deeds."

"For both I grant forgiveness freely. We have much to speak of."

* * *

Inzilbêth looked about the great banquet hall of the palace at Armenolas. Great swags of velvet and silk were draped gaily along the high stone walls, and though it shimmered in deep and vibrant colors the stone seemed cold to her, cold and uncaring as her life had become.

Even her son, her last and dearest joy, the light of the unhappy queen of Númenor was leaving her. The words of the elf, that night weeks ago had given her hope, but no word had she heard and her hope was fading.

Inziladûn would continue becoming more arrogant and cruel, following his father and younger brother and breaking his mother's worn heart.

Around her the music ebbed and flowed, swelling sweetly as it had long ago on her wedding night. The night she had sworn her life away to a man she did not love. In a way she had not cared, indeed she had been almost eager. Thalion who she had loved first was gone, sent away on a fruitless and dangerous mission by order of the king.

Her heart torn by the king's cruelty to he whom she had loved and the fear of harm to her family should she refuse him she had accepted his advances. Now, looking upon the empty years following her choice she felt a great sorrow that life had served her so ill. Thalion, whom she had loved unknown to all but the king was happily married having returned with honor from his trials. Even his daughter, Melyanna a brave and wise girl who followed her parent's beliefs was so unlike her own children.

About her the crowds swirled, laughing, drinking, dancing as there was no ill or shadow upon the world. But theirs was no innocent entertainment, the laughter was forced and shallow, the drinking in excess and the dancing bereft of dignity. She had no place among them.

Turning, she left seeking out the peace of her own chambers.

She swung to the ante-chamber open and stopped, ill-at-ease. Inzilbêth started towards the low fire with a taper.

The flames blazed with sudden light and she saw the silent figure that stood outside her window.

"May I enter my lady?" asked Eldarcáno.

Inzilbêth nodded soundlessly as he slipped within.

"Your son awaits you, my queen. Do not fear for him any longer."

And he smiled as she whirled about seeking her child.

* * *

To Reviewers:

Just A Reviewer: Ah, I love your reviews...nice and long...Its Laiqalasse...the Quenyan for Greenleaf. Yes, their names are a bit messy...blame the great professor. Sorry I couldn't earlier...but life has been evil lately. You're out of school? Where in Arda do you live...even my college doesn't get out for another month. And this is going to be a trilogy...some day. Unfortunately my head is full of plot-tribbles (which means that I constantly have new ideas...latest being a Middle Earth Scarlet Pimpernel...)

Pip the Dark Lord of All: Thanks :)


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